Circular Narration: My Hero
by St Jon of PDX
Summary: Set the night before the final battle with Ganondorf. Navi reflects on the young hero she has come to care so much for, his strength, and his fate. OoT. COMPLETE. REPOST as original was deleted in error.


Circular Narration: My Hero

By: St Jon of PDX

"We deceive ourselves when we fancy that only weakness needs support--strength needs it far more." (Madame Swetchine)

***

It was strange, really. I never really noticed the cold before. Back home it had always been warm. Not literally, of course. The forest could get bitingly chilly during the cold months and The Great Deku Tree Himself had decreed that the Kokiri children were to stay in the village and by their fires at night for the coldest part of the winter. Still, that had been a Kokiri concern and I had taken little note of it other than to feel sorry for the small creatures and their frail little bodies. It was almost inconceivable to me, at the time, that a being could live like that--with so little connection to The Great Forest that mere wind and chill could cause physical pain. The thought seems so ironic now, looking back on the things I have seen in the last months. Years in a way, depending on how you look at it.

That had been why I had accepted The Great Spirit's plea to bond with the lonely child. Bonding is a great honor, but also a great responsibility and I had never seen myself as undergoing the right. But He had shown me a glimpse of that boy's life and I had been moved. The Great Spirit had meant for me to be moved, of course. He knew from the moment that His decision was made that I would concede--such is the connection between He and us. The Great Father and His closest children. Closer, even, than the sowers that bear His name. We are His and His will lives within us from our birth. So it was no surprise to Him, but a great surprise to me, when upon seeing this child I could do nothing but offer myself. It was hard for me to understand the emptiness the Kokiri must feel, but this boy? He did not even have the solace of The Bond.

So I had gone to him and woke him and told him that he must come, come quickly, for The Great Deku Tree himself was in need of him. I had not realized at the time that there had been anything wrong with our Father--not really. We had all felt Him pull away from us a little, but this was not an altogether new experience. He had done it before, if infrequently, when the world outside our home required His attention and we accepted it as His duty as a God. First among Gods, our Father. Even the sowers call us blasphemers for that, but is our way. Great Din, Farorer, and Nayru shaped the world and gave it form, it is true. But our Father was the one to tend its green field and build our home and give birth to us and the sowers and the howling wolfos and the little fairies that would later leave our home and the great bringers and give form to the lost souls that could not pierce the veil of the next world and a hundred other creatures that walk across the land of Hyrule and the greater world.

And the boy had come, and in my ignorance and stupidity I had let him doddle with swords and shields when we should have gone, as fast as we could, to His side. He had needed that sword, it had turned out, but we had still wasted time. I had still wasted time and if I had been quicker then The Great Spirit might still live.

Or we could have been a few minutes too early and not been able to defeat Ghoma. Link could have died in the darkness I had not believed existed deep within my God. And Great Nayru, I commit blasphemy now, I would watch Great Father die a thousand-thousand times before I would watch Link suffer. Gods hate me, but it is my truth. A truth I will hide from all but myself until I draw my last breath.

I'm watching him now, from a bed of leaves and grass and his old, worn, green hat that he had made for me under the propped up Mirror Shield. And, even protected form the heavy rain and wrapped in his hat, I notice again the soul striking cold of the fields. At first I had thought the chill was effecting me because I had left the forest, but I know better now. My kind are made of the magics of The Great Deku Tree and even far from his domain and long after his passing, mere cold would not pierce my senses. I have had time in the last weeks since Link and I awoke from our forced slumber to really look at the world. To reach out with senses the Hylian tongue has no name for and taste the earth. Hyrule was wrong. I don't know how else to explain it but what once was fragrant and savory is now bitter. It amazes me that they don't see it. That the Hylians and Zora and Gorons don't feel the land of their birth tainted.

Link feels it, not with the senses of the fairies but with a power all his own; a power born from the tri-force of courage and a childhood among the trees of The Great Forest and the terrible warriors instinct that leads him to dodge left, rather than right. We talked about it, sitting around a small campfire in the great hall of Lodedranna Moidrah--Link calls it the forest temple--sipping tea and taking shelter from the rain. It had been raining hard then as well, and the forest trails had been churned to muck.

My Link.

Great Father! He looks so tired. Even in sleep, his brow is draw in heavy lines and creases. I think I hate Farorer a little, for doing this to him. For choosing this no-longer-child as her champion when there were so many priests and warriors and scholars that would have flocked to her call. But then, can I really hate her without hating myself. I led Link into the darkness to face Ghoma. I convinced him to continue on, to fight the good fight, to save the world. And all the times I have stroked his hair or prayed for him when he has almost died--through all that, I have never suggested that he stop. That he give up. So perhaps I am just as bad as her godship. Perhaps I am a monster as surly as Ganondorf.

Because really, what is a monster other than the thing that hurts the innocent and tortures the hero. And of a surety, Link is both the most innocent and heroic man I have know in my entire life. A true Hero. My hero. And really, that's probably why I've never told him to give up. Because what hope does the world have if it's only hero stops fighting. Link gives them hope--a light in the sky to pierce the oppressive fog that has settled over Hyrule, proving that all is not lost. Because, surely, if one such as this can still live then there is still hope. There is still a reason to fight through each day and come out the other end that much stronger.

It's so selfish--of all of us. Of me more so that most because I alone know what the others don't see. I see him cry himself to sleep each night, as I stroke his hair and tell him--may I be damned--that he has to fight on. I see the wounds he carries across his body, hidden by cloth and armor, when he baths. I hear the sad song that sings from his ocarina when he believes that everyone, even me, is asleep--he has become such a beautiful player. And most of all I see the look in his eyes. The look his eyes held tonight before he drug his bedroll to a patch of less-wet ground under the boughs of one of the lonely trees of Hyrule Plains and hunkered under the heavy wolfos pelts that serve as blankets.

He has given the world hope, but in doing so lost all hope for himself.

Oh Gods! He's asleep now and I let the tears roll down the near-transparent skin of my cheeks. Oh Great Father, we have wronged him so very much. This man-child whom I love with all my being. He deserves so much better than this. Why couldn't he just find peace?

I swipe angrily at the tears that run down my skin.

Fairies don't cry. We, above all creatures, are one with the land and above such things. We are the free spirits and were born of the Great Father's laughter. We do not cry.

I look at him again. My Link. One hand rests on the sword by his side even as he sleeps and the other is curled into a pained fist. He is more peaceful tonight than he has been in a long time. It's not saying much. The sages are free. Tomorrow we ride to the City, to The Temple of Time and the shadow knight Shiek. Tomorrow we will stop Ganondorf, and it startles me to realize just how certain I am of that. How, even as I have seen Link in his worst moments--burnt and bleeding and clinging to sanity by the barest of threads--I know for a fact that my hero will succeed. The knowledge fills me with a dread I have never felt before.

And slowly, an awareness blossoms in me that was not there before. Suddenly, the look of reverence on the faces of the people as they look up at Link take on a darker shade as my understanding finally encompasses the situation I find myself in. They do not revere Link because they see in him and end to their pain--a man who would live his life to protect them, but because they see in him a grander salvation. A man who will die for them.

Every muscle in my body freezes with the realization and all I want to do is go to him and tell him that I was wrong. That he doesn't have to do this. That Shiek and the sages will take care of the rest. That he has done his part and now we should go, leave Hyrule and go as far away as we can. That the world isn't worth his death. But even as I want to I know it won't work. No matter what I tell him now, he will lead the battle tomorrow. He will walk boldly into the darkness as I told him to a long time ago in front of Father. I have done my job too well.

Tomorrow, no matter who wins--and I'm sure Link will--the world will end. Innocence will die. Oh Nayru, Link is going to die tomorrow--me too, as I will fight beside him until I am no more.

I will give my life for him, as he will give his for the world.

Damn it! Fairies don't cry! We don't! We are the free spirits! The light bringers! It is why we bond to the Kokiri children, to bring them the balance of wisdom and joy and join it to their childish wonder.

But all I can think is that we don't deserve him and more and more tears fall.

My Hero.

Oh Gods, Link!

Fairies don't cry, but I'm not a fairy--not tonight. Tonight I am a monster that has led the worlds greatest hero to his death.

I cry.

***


End file.
